Mutual
by Fuzzy Blue Owl
Summary: A little encounter in the prefect's bathroom between Draco and Harry...
1. And So It Begins

First chapter originally posted 09-07-03, after GoF but pre-OotP.

Some good, old-fashioned steamy(?) Drarry slash, featuring Confident!Determined!Draco and Shy!Nervous!Harry. Don't read if you don't like boy-on-boy. You've been warned.

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Mutual

Harry's eyes slid open slowly, wondering what was happening. He was immersed in hot water, and the smell of scented bubbles filled his nose. Ah, yes, the Prefect's bathroom. He closed his eyes again and leaned back onto the edge of the tub a moment, sighing. He had fallen asleep in the Prefect's bathroom yet again. Studying for the O.W.L.s into the wee hours of the morning had not allowed him much time for sleep or anything else. His heavy-lidded eyes slid back open, and he willed himself to get out of the large bathtub long enough to stumble back to his dorm and into bed. His body wasn't listening.

There was a soft sound and the slightest hint of movement on the far side of the bathroom. Suddenly, Harry was wide awake. Somebody was there and watching him. A figure moved closer to the large bathtub. The bathroom was poorly lit at that time of night (morning, rather) and all Harry could see was a blurry outline, obviously male, who seemed to be nude except for a towel wrapped around his waist. Harry turned and scrambled for his glasses, which he had carefully placed on the edge of the tub. He attempted to clear the fog from them, failed miserably, and slid them up his nose anyway.

Oh, my. Well. Yes, the figure was _definitely _male. As he approached the source of light, a magically lit lamp high on the wall above the tub, Harry could see him much clearer. Harry first noticed the sculpted chest, thin but defined, and then the fluffy white towel that was sliding down to his hips, close to falling off.

"Enjoy your nap, then?" A deep, drawling voice reached Harry's ears. A moment later, Harry realized with a shock that both the voice and the delicious looking body belonged to Draco Malfoy.

Harry gasped a bit. "What are you doing here?" he choked out, mentally calling himself numerous kinds of idiot. Malfoy was a prefect; he had every night to be in the prefect's bathroom, even if it was an odd time of night- morning. He suddenly became very, very aware that the previously thick layer of bubbles was now rather translucent.

"I was planning on asking you the same question, although I think it makes a little more sense, coming from me." Malfoy commented, raising an eyebrow slightly. A half-smirk slid onto his face as he said, "Having a _wet _dream?"

Harry smiled a bit in spite of himself at the horrible pun, and relaxed. If Malfoy was going to joke around, so was he. He playfully flicked at the water. "Ah, but the real question is, what were _you_ doing while watching me?"

"Watching you? Oh, no, I just got here. If I knew there was going to be any type of show to be watched, I would have gotten front-row tickets and been here much earlier." The smirk widened.

Harry blinked a bit. Apparently any type of questioning had been forgotten in exchange for... for what? What _was_ this? _Flirting._ Harry's logic center told him. _This is definitely a very corrupted and unusual way of flirting. _He paused. _He's straight, damnit. All over Parkinson all the time. Why would he be flirting with me?_

While Harry tried to figure out what exactly was going on, Malfoy stepped closer to the tub, obviously planning on getting in. "No peeking!" The smirk widened even more. Harry had barely even closed his eyes when he heard the soft sound of the thick towel falling to the floor. An eternal pause later, Harry heard the distinct splashing sound of Draco sliding into the water. Harry's eyes slid open to see that Malfoy had ducked underwater and his silvery hair was dripping into his eyes. Oh... my. Draco busied himself with the faucets and the tub began filling itself with fresh, soapy water.

"Will you be... joining me?" Malfoy queried amusedly.

Harry goggled, "In what?" immediately cursing his lack of eloquence.

The smirk became a flirtatious but genuine smile. "Well now... that depends. What exactly are you thinking of? I was simply thinking of a bath, and I thought I was pretty clear on that, but if you have something… better… in mind, do tell..."

Harry gaped. "Are... are you _coming on_ to me?" He blurted out, eyes widening.

"And what if I was?" Harry gaped again. "Chin up, Potter, you look like a frog like that."

"But... you're _straight_! You and Parkinson-"

"Pansy Parkinson is a lesbian, Potter, where have you been? She's been dating Padma Patil for almost two months."

This new information and what it implied had barely sunk in when suddenly they were rather close. Draco had moved rather quickly without Harry noticing a thing, the lack of footsteps catching him off balance as he tried to process everything he was hearing. Harry tried to ignore how physically close Draco was to the front of him, but found it increasingly difficult when Draco casually placed one arm on the side of the tub where he had been leaning, in a way pushing him to the wall of the tub. Harry's breath quickened. Was Draco being serious or was this just another way of taunting him? Harry wasn't exactly inexperienced with other boys (Seamus, 4th year, very clumsy, awkward, messy experimentation that they both agreed to end), but he was highly reluctant to give Malfoy any sort of blackmail-worthy information hanging over him. He bit his lip slightly. His body was telling his brain to shut up and _do_ something, anything, or at least make the first move.

He started to move forward and found that Draco had met him halfway. The both had the briefest moment of muffled surprise before adjusting so that their lips met properly.

Draco took Harry's lower lip between his own and gave it a nibble, eliciting the tiniest gasp. Emboldened by the sound, Draco slid his arm off of the edge of the tub and moved his hand down the side of the tub, letting his inner forearm brush gently against the sensitive skin of Harry's waist. Harry gasped and leaned against the arm, firmly making contact. Harry slid his hands up Draco's arms, finally draping them over Draco's shoulders as he leaned in and deepened the kiss. Any thoughts he had about future regrets fled his brain as his body started to take over.

.

Draco finally wrapped his arms around Harry's lower back and pulled him closer. The back of his brain was shocked that Harry wasn't completely resisting all of the efforts Draco had come up with. In fact, Harry didn't seem to be holding back very much at all. This all stewed at the back of his mind, but his main concern was how amazing it felt to be kissing and holding Harry. This was nothing like he thought it would be. Harry ran his tongue along Draco's lips, and Draco immediately accepted the silent offer and opened his mouth to Harry, letting the kiss deepen further.

Draco couldn't decide what he wanted to do with his hands. He slid his them up to Harry's shoulders, and then lightly traced his chest, slid down to his sides, finally coming to rest on Harry's thin hips. He was amazed at how silky-smooth Harry's skin was; he had always imagined it as tougher and more callused from Quidditch.

Harry gasped at the feeling of Draco's hands gently touching his body. Draco was so sure of himself, so confident of what he was doing, and so _tender_... Harry had always imagined Draco as the rough, fast type. He reached a hand to the nape of Draco's neck, tugging his hair, and moved in to suck the curve of his neck.

Draco gasped audibly and arched his neck as Harry nibbled on the tender skin near the intersection of his jaw and his neck. Where had he learned to do _that_? Apparently Harry wasn't exactly as innocent as Draco, and the rest of Hogwarts, for that matter, thought... And, oh my. He arched his back as Harry's tongue did _very_ interesting things to his collarbone. As he leaned in further, their bodies slid together wonderfully and they both gasped as their erections brushed together.

For a moment they paused the kiss, both slightly startled as they realized at the same time that they were both painfully hard for their arch enemy.

There was suddenly a loud crash and thump outside the bathroom. They both froze. "Filch?" Harry whispered.

"Quick, let's go," Draco whispered back, silently reaching for his towel and his wand. With a wave of his wand and whispered words, the tub was completely dry. Harry scrambled for his Invisibility Cloak, scooping it up and throwing it around both of them.

"Don't move," Harry whispered, his lips brushing against Draco's ear, making Draco shiver. Not two seconds later, the lamp-like eyes of Mrs. Norris appeared near the doorway. Harry rested his fingertips on Draco's back, warning him not to make a noise. They eyes of the cat floated around the bathroom, seemingly empty. After nearly a minute of the excruciating silence, Mrs. Norris moved back toward the door and disappeared.

They both started breathing again. "Filch will be here any second, even if she didn't find anything," Harry breathed into Draco's ear. Draco nodded. "Come on." They moved oh-so-slowly to the door and out, not making a sound.

In the hallway, the moon was shining in from high windows and they could see that there were several upended desks balancing on the head of Gregory the Smarmy, nearly reaching the ceiling. "Peeves, then," whispered Draco. "Filch will have a hell of a time getting those down without smashing the statue... he'll be here in a second, we'll be blamed." Harry nodded and whispered back, "I'll take you to Slytherin so you won't be seen..." there seemed to be the slightest touch of regret in Harry's voice, and Draco couldn't decide if he had imagined it.

They moved quickly. Harry didn't ask for directions, simply went down to the dungeons and stopped in front of the Slytherin common room door without a hitch, which both mightily impressed and bemused Draco. Draco turned to Harry awkwardly. "Thanks for... the cloak. Very nice." He blushed a bit, hoping it wasn't visible in the dark corridors, at the uncharacteristic hesitation.

Harry also shifted awkwardly. "I'll... er, see you tomorrow, then?"

"Yes..." Draco paused, then turned to Harry, kissing him quickly but intensely, and then moved from underneath the cloak and leaned up to the wall. As it slipped open, Draco gave a quick smile to Harry's general direction before retreating in.

Harry quickly moved to the Gryffindor tower, trying to make his brain digest all that had happened. By the time he was into the tower and safe in his bed, he had a hard time believing it had actually happened. Was that part of a dream he had while he was still sleeping in the tub? As he took his glasses off and folded his cloak into his trunk, he licked his lips. He tasted like Draco... Harry shivered as the memory of Draco's mouth, at his hands sliding down his sides, the delicious moment of hardness against hardness, took hold of him.

Perhaps it was a dream, perhaps not. He would see tomorrow. At the time, though, the memory was good enough. He buried himself under the covers of his bed and dreamed of Draco's touch.


	2. Chocolate Cake

At least it wasn't a _decade_ before I added a new chapter...?

3-9-12

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Chapter 2

Harry was trying to not stare at the Slytherin table at breakfast and failing. He was an idiot to have sat on the side of the table that faced the rest of the hall, why didn't he think of that before sitting down? It was too late now, if he moved he would give himself away.

Malfoy had chosen a seat directly across from him but didn't seem to have any problems ignoring Harry. It was as if there was simply a wall between the Slytherins and the rest of the school, apparently none of the other students were worthy of his attentions.

Harry couldn't help another glance up. Sure enough, Malfoy was ignoring him in favor of his own breakfast and his own mates. _Did I dream the whole thing happening?_ Harry wasn't sure anymore. He had woken that morning to sticky sheets and memories of a bathtub encounter that _hadn't_ been interrupted by Mrs. Norris. This, from what he remembered, was the reason the experience had been tragically cut short.

"Harry, come on." Hermione was trying to get his attention.

"Huh?"

Hermione gave him one of those disapproving looks she was so good at. "Class, Harry, it's time for History of Magic."

"Oh, yeah, of course," Harry stood up quickly. He couldn't help one last look towards the other side of the hall.

Draco Malfoy was standing as well, staring directly at him. Harry blinked. Malfoy raised a curved, thin eyebrow at him with the barest ghost of a smirk in the moment they locked eyes, then quickly turned around, heading for the doors with his cronies in his wake.

Harry tried to keep his face calm as the stare heated his bones and sent a tingle down his spine. Since when was that smirk not annoying? Suddenly every smirk Malfoy had ever sent his way had a double meaning.

History of Magic was the perfect opportunity to examine the possibilities. _I dreamt the whole thing, I dreamt part of it or I didn't dream it at all. _ Well the last didn't make sense; he had definitely woken up to the mess. The first didn't make sense either; there was definitely a contradiction there. Mrs. Norris either _had_ interrupted or she _hadn't_, there was no way both could have happened.

Which meant there was one very disturbing option; Draco Malfoy had indeed cornered him in the bathtub and instigated some very inappropriate behavior for a school prefect.

But _why_? Surely there was a reason he would give Harry blackmail material; no doubt if Harry went to a teacher and told that he had been molested by a prefect, Malfoy at the very least would lose his badge. _You weren't molested if you kissed back, _he admitted, _and especially not if you were hard._ He had to take a few slow, deep breaths. The memory of Draco subtlety maneuvering him into a corner was not helping him concentrate. He felt a pool of heat gathering in his groin and had to adjust his robes.

_Fuck. _Concentrate. Maybe it had been a dare. Maybe Malfoy was trying to play some game with him, to embarrass him in some way, or... Except, Malfoy had been affected too; Harry shivered as the memory of velvet hardness brushing against his own invaded his brain.

_Fuck._ This was definitely was _not_ the perfect opportunity to examine the possibilities if he couldn't stop his body from reacting. He stared down the clock. This lesson seemed to be dragging by even longer than usual.

.

At lunch Harry made a conscious decision to sit on the correct side of the damn table, facing one row of Gryffindors and the wall. For a while it was far better to be able to just eat his food and relax without the magnetic power of Malfoy continuing to drag his eyes upward. He almost forgot how distressed he had been earlier.

Suddenly his neck prickled and he barely caught himself from turning to look behind him for whoever was staring down the back of his head. He knew exactly who it would be. He kept looking at his plate, though the hairs on his nape were rising. He could almost feel the sharp gaze lingering on his back.

It wouldn't stop. It was almost worse than breakfast. No, it _was_ worse. Instead of being able to discreetly glance to the other side of the hall to see if he was being looked at, he could _feel_ the look burning into him, constantly, until the bell rung. Fuck.

.

Harry had forgotten his Potions essay that was due this afternoon sitting on a table in the common room. He had to sprint up to Gryffindor tower to retrieve it and then hurtle down to the dungeons. He was breathless, jogging and only a corridor away when he heard soft laughter. He stopped and whipped his head back towards the offending noise.

Draco Malfoy had emerged from a boy's room as Harry had gone flying past.

"What's funny?" Harry snapped as he whipped around, embarrassed at being red faced and sweating and lugging his bag like it was twice as heavy as it actually was. This was _not_ how he wanted his next meeting with Malfoy to be. _Wait, how _did_ I want it to be?_

Malfoy simply shrugged and walked towards him, causing Harry to take a step back and move his wand hand closer to his pocket out of habit and cursing his reflexes. However, Malfoy's hand stayed by his side as he simply passed Harry on his way to the dungeons, perhaps slightly too close to be polite, murmuring, "Well, Potter, you're just all hot and bothered."

"Oh, very mature, Malfoy," Harry scowled, "how original."

Malfoy simply smirked over his shoulder at him and kept walking.

That smirk was starting to become a problem.

.

Harry slid into his seat and concentrated on keeping his eyes strictly to the front. How had he never noticed before that Malfoy always sat directly in his line of vision in this class? Only one row away, even all the way up at the front, was enough to be unbelievably distracting as Snape explained the instructions for today's potion.

There was a piece of Malfoy's hair that was out of place. It stuck out from his head at an odd angle, and since Malfoy's hair was always immaculately styled it kept catching Harry's eyes when the dim candlelight hit it. It was near his ear. Harry's gaze dropped to Malfoy's jaw and neck and remembered kissing and nibbling his way down…

It was almost a relief to start chopping ingredients to have an excuse to look away.

.

Harry didn't know where to sit at dinner. He had a brief moment of indecision as the options flashed back and forth. He simply couldn't imagine the burning stare on the back of his head being any less unpleasant though, and knowing he could look for at least a second at a time seemed a little better.

Malfoy came into the Hall a minute after Harry, Ron and Hermione had sat and again chose a seat directly across the Hall from him, flanked by his bodyguards. Harry pretended his plate was very interesting and he wasn't swallowing constantly in nerves. He risked a glance up and saw Malfoy, as composed as every, ignoring him again and eating. How was he so calm? Wasn't he embarrassed at what he had done? Why wasn't he reacting at all? What was his aim?

Dessert appeared and Harry grabbed a piece of treacle tart, using the movement as a cover for glancing up again. Malfoy was eating a piece of chocolate cake. With his _fingers_.

Harry gaped for a second before trying to act normal. Malfoy always used silverware, Harry assumed at his fancy manor house they accepted no less. Here he was, though, daintily plucking of chunks of cake with his finger and thumb. Harry's mouth watered. He couldn't tear his eyes away as Malfoy, whose attention _seemed _to be entirely on the cake, slid his frosting covered first finger into his mouth and _sucked._

The unbidden, horrifyingly erotic image of his cock being sucked into Malfoy's mouth instead of that slim digit sprang to the front of Harry's mind. He could feel his cheeks reddening and felt his dick twitch in response. Oh gods, this was _not_ happening, he was _not _fantasizing about Malfoy sucking his cock _at the dinner table_-

He grabbed his goblet of chilled pumpkin juice and drained it.

"Harry, mate, are you all right? You're all red," Ron noticed with a bemused look.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine, just not used to the weather. It's- er- stuffy in here," Harry muttered, trying not to babble as he loosened his tie.

Ron, mollified, went back to his pudding. Harry took a bite of tart and couldn't resist the magnetism that pulled his eyes upward.

Malfoy's finger was still in his mouth and his slate eyes were boring directly into Harry's. He ever so slowly pulled it from his lips, his cheeks remaining slightly hollowed until his finger came out with a _pop_. His tongue emerged to lick a remaining fleck of frosting from the corner of his mouth and darted back in. While maintaining direct eye contact, Malfoy's mouth curved up into a dirty smirk.

Harry's jaw dropped. Suddenly he _couldn't_ look at Malfoy any more, it was too much, surely _someone_ was going to notice this provocative display Malfoy was putting on, and notice where he was directing it. He scowled down at his tart, flustered, trying to ignore how rock hard he was.

_Fuck_.


	3. Parchment

Reviews please?

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Draco tried and failed to hold back a smirk as Potter hurried out of the Hall, his confused friends following behind a little bit later. He picked up his fork and finished his cake in a rather more civilized manner.

It had been a random impulse to try the frosting with his fingers that had quickly become something more as he saw the heated glances and embarrassed blush creeping up onto Potter's cheeks. There was something so deliciously satisfying about making Potter blush, making him lose control and _sweat_ in the palm of Draco's hand, that he just couldn't resist any opportunities to do it again. That pink tinge across his cheekbones was addicting. Of _course_ he couldn't stop once he had started.

Walking into that bathroom and seeing Potter sprawled out, sleeping in the bathtub, alone, naked, and vulnerable had been rather enlightening. Instead of the urge to drown Potter (as he had expected) had come the urge to embarrass him, not even to get him into trouble. After Potter had inconveniently woken up before he had decided on the best course of action, he had gone on instinct. Before he knew it, his instincts had taken over and the urge to tease the Gryffindor in a different manner than usual had become overwhelming. He hadn't expected to become so… interested. That smooth chest, his dark hair dripping wet and even messier than usual, just made Potter look like he'd had a good shag and it had surprised Draco to feel his cock twitching in interest at the thought of Potter fucking or being fucked. The kissing had not been planned, but afterwards, Draco had admitted to himself that he had wanted it, wanted _Potter, _of all the ridiculous people to grow up and suddenly be attractive.

His constant hatred of Potter throughout the years had stemmed more from rejection than anything else. People were not allowed to reject a Malfoy, but Potter had apparently not known this and had done it anyway. Draco's furious anger lasted long enough to hide his growing need to _make_ Potter take notice of him, whatever necessary. It had not occurred to him before now that there was more than one way of getting Potter's attention, and certainly not exactly like this.

The bathroom had been perfect, Draco reflected. Nobody around had been around, _expecting_ them to fight, because _that's just what Potter and Malfoy did_. They had started it between just themselves, in the beginning, but plenty of their mutual animosity was directed towards each other's friends and family. In the bathroom there was none of that. Just two curious, naked boys.

The memory of those impulsive kisses and the unexpected way Potter had reacted heated Draco's bones to the core and he fought for control over his body. Malfoys did not get aroused during dinner. Except, here he was, fantasizing over cornering Potter in that bathtub again, this time grabbing his hair, biting and tonguing his neck, roughing him up and making him _scream._

He wanted more than the brief brush of erections and a few stolen kisses. He had gotten a taste of Harry Potter the Golden Boy and now he would not be sated until he had _all_ of him, whimpering, begging Draco for more and _coming._ The images of fucking Harry Potter rushing into his brain were overpowering and now Draco knew he must have what he wanted at all costs.

There must be some way to get Potter alone again, preferably without the risk of being caught.

He took a deep breath. _Think._

.

A flutter of noise startled Harry as he almost nodded off over his Potions textbook. A small, intricately folded piece of parchment had swooped past his ear and landed next to his hand on the table in the library. He looked around quickly, but nobody was anywhere near him or paying him the least bit of mind.

He looked down at it. It was a cross between a tiny envelope and a Muggle paper plane and had a single letter on the outside, _P._

He picked it up and unfolded it clumsily, trying to keep the parchment from tearing. A single word was written on the inside. There was no signature. Harry flipped it over, searching every millimeter of parchment, but there was only the thinly slanted, scrawled word.

_Tonight?_


	4. Vanilla and Cinnamon

A/N: How did Harry get the map back from Moody's impostor? That's JKR's plothole, not mine ;D

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Harry ran his thumb over the piece of parchment again. In a few hours all his attention to it had smoothed out almost every crease. He was lying in his bed with the curtains pulled around him, holding the parchment in one hand and watching Malfoy's dot on the Marauder's Map. Harry couldn't think of anyone else who could have possibly sent him the note. The location seemed pretty obvious but Harry was frustrated that he didn't know what time to sneak out of his dorm. He had told Ron and Hermione he was going to bed early. He definitely did not want to get to the bathroom before Malfoy did, and have to wait, only to have Malfoy not show up. He didn't want to look like a fool. Malfoy's dot had been sitting in the Slytherin common room next to Blaise Zabini until after ten.

Harry sat up suddenly as Malfoy's dot moved to the Slytherin dorms. _Well fuck. Good thing I didn't go._ Malfoy's dot moved around the dorm for a few minutes and then headed back to the common room, bypassing Zabini's dot and moving into the dungeons.

Harry's jaw dropped as he watched. Malfoy's dot moved out of the dungeons and to a staircase that would take him in the direction of the prefect's bathroom. Harry grabbed his cloak from under his pillow and threw it over himself. _Take your time, don't be too eager…_ Harry tried to tell himself as he took a deep breath to steady himself and left the dorms. He paused at the portrait hole, but nobody in the common room was paying attention. He slowly pulled the portrait open the slightest bit possible just to ease through and closed it behind him quickly and quietly with practiced ease.

He had to take another deep breath a corridor down. His heart was pounding. He checked the map again. Malfoy was almost to the bathroom. Harry slowed his pace a little. _What am I getting myself into?_

.

Draco entered the prefects' bathroom and was both relieved and disappointed that Potter wasn't here yet. He wasn't sure why he hadn't specified a time. Perhaps that would have made the encounter too official, too much like a date. It would be interesting to see if, or when, Potter showed up.

Draco stripped and got into the giant tub, turning on his favorite vanilla bubbles tab on full and the cinnamon foam tap on around a third, taking a deep breath and trying to pretend he wasn't nervous. He wasn't sure exactly what he had expected when he send the note. He knew what he was _hoping_ for, at least. Draco dipped under the water before swimming a few laps to calm his nerves. He settled on the farthest side of the tub from the door, next to his pile of clothes and wand. Time to wait.

.

Harry paused at the statue of Boris the Bewildered and trembled. His feet had brought him here. He knew he wanted this, but he was still suspicious that there was some catch, some trick that Malfoy was up to. His body was past caring though. He knew he wanted more. Harry whispered _pine fresh_ and slid into the bathroom. The lights were dim but already on and a sweet yet spicy scent filled his nose. He shut the door behind him softly. Malfoy was just visible through the hot mist, staring at the door as if trying to see who had come in. Harry remembered abruptly he was still wearing the invisibility cloak and pulled if off. Harry noticed Draco's expression brightened briefly as he became visible and felt shivers down his neck. Draco quickly schooled his features back to a haughty smirk, seemingly out of habit.

"Well, well. Joining me for a bath tonight, Potter? Get in already; you're making me cold just looking at you."

Harry suddenly realized he would have to strip in front of Malfoy and bit his lip. It was a little different to show up in only a towel than to actually get naked in front of somebody. Harry slowly pulled off his pajama shirt and placed it on top of his cloak sitting on a shelf next to the folded towels. He paused, glancing at Malfoy who was making no effort whatsoever to give Harry some privacy, practically leering at Harry as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his pajama pants.

"What happened to no peeking?" Harry mumbled. Malfoy smirked, raising an eyebrow, and did not look away. Harry turned his back, slipped his pants down and off, and slipped into the water as quickly as he could.

"Well, that certainly wasn't much of a show," Malfoy commented, and Harry blushed immediately, thinking of their first encounter, and bowed his head to try to hide it.

"I didn't realize you, er, expected one," Harry stumbled over his words and cursed his lack of eloquence. He looked up and was startled to see that Draco had silently closed the distance between them to less than a foot. "Er… I…"

"Shut up, Potter," Draco whispered before leaning in and kissing him. Harry gasped a little. Draco grinned against his mouth as he felt no resistance and threaded the fingers of his left hand through the back of Harry's hair, deepening the kiss and reveling in the memory of Harry naked, bent over in front of him, trying to remove his pajama bottoms as quickly as possible. His attempt at not giving a show had been… well, _quite_ a show.

Harry pulled away a little, breathing heavily, "Speaking of shows… the cake, at dinner- with everyone watching- what were you _thinking_?"

Draco laughed a little. His other hand under the water was now making little circles on the small of Harry's back. "Well, if I remember correctly…" He leaned in and licked the outer shell of Harry's ear, slowly whispering, "I was thinking about sucking your cock."

Harry gasped as most of the blood in his body rushed straight to his eager and willing cock. He could feel that his face was receiving the little blood that was left in a deep flush.

"I see that that is not an entirely unwelcome prospect," Draco drawled, noting the blush staining Harry's cheeks and chest, tightening his grip on Harry's damp hair and pulling him back in for a deeper kiss. The untidy mop was even wilder than usual. The thick strands were so dark, so unlike his own, and he suddenly realized the reason Harry's hair had always pissed him off so much was that he was _attracted_ to it. Harry moaned, clearly enjoying having his hair touched. Draco gripped the strands at the nape of Harry's neck and was rewarded with Harry thrusting his his hips into Draco's own. _Ohmygods, he's as hard as I am, _Draco thought ecstatically.

His right hand drifted to Harry's hipbone, caressing it, and then lightly closed around the base of Harry's cock.

"Oh, fuck- oh-"

Draco's grip firmed as he _ever so slowly _stroked up and down. Harry's knees felt like jelly as he tried to concentrate on the kiss, on the brilliant fingers doing heavenly things to him, on _not_ coming in the next 5 seconds-

Draco's chuckle was darkly evil as he tortuously removed his hand from Harry's length.

"What- why-"

Draco smirked at Harry- though it was _almost_ a smile- and pulled himself out of the tub.

Draco picked up his wand from the pile of clothing and turned it to the stack of towels. Three of them unfolded themselves and lay neatly on the floor on top of one another, then widened and lengthened and thickened into a mattress type cushion. He then waved it in a swooping motion towards the door, casting silent Silencing and Locking spells, impressing Harry in the ease of his spellcasting.

"Come here, Harry," Draco whispered. Harry shuddered at the erotic sound of Draco saying his given name by itself for the first time ever. He could do nothing but obey the silky voice. His legs moved him to the edge of the tub and he hoisted himself out of the tub to sit nervously on the enlarged towels next to Draco. Draco slid his hand to the back of Harry's neck and ran his fingers up the back of Harry's head again, enjoying the sight of Harry's eyes fluttering closed and the gasping breaths he was taking.

Draco gripped a little firmer and pulled Harry down with him to lay side by side, facing each other, on the soft towels. Draco captured his lips in a kiss full of suppressed desire finally fulfilled and Harry responded enthusiastically. Draco broke the kiss when they were both out of air, panting. The hand not entangled in Harry's hair moved down to lightly touch his cock again.

Harry gasped at the contact and thrust his hips forward into Draco's hand, wanting more. Draco slid the hand his Harry's hair down, tracing the ridges in his spine, then moved to clench his hip, pushing it down gently to the towel so Harry was laying on his back. Draco moved to straddle Harry's thighs and leaned in to suck on Harry's neck. Harry arched his neck to give Draco better access to the soft, sensitive skin. Draco kissed and sucked and gently bit on Harry's throat before moving his mouth down to place open mouthed kisses on Harry's collarbone and chest. While keeping his eyes on Harry's face, Draco moved lower and lower until he was gently kissing Harry's hipbone.

Harry looked down at him with heavily lidded eyes and bit his lip. Draco was absolutely fascinated by this gesture and he couldn't help but keep staring as he slowly kissed closer and closer to Harry's dripping cock. Harry's hips were making ever so slight thrusting movements Draco could feel in his thighs clamped around Harry's lower body, and it was driving his own arousal to new heights. Draco cruelly lifted his head and moved to the other side, mimicking his movements out to his other hipbone, knowing how horrible of a tease he was being. Harry groaned in frustration and increased the speed of his little thrusts as he moved both hands to tentatively thread his finger's through Draco's fine, silky strands, as if he wasn't sure if he should ask for permission first. Draco loved to have his hair played with, so he rewarded Harry with a broad, wet swipe of his tongue to the underside of Harry's length.

"Oh, _fuck!_" Harry gasped, and Draco wondered if he had ever had this done to him before.

"Did you think about me doing this at dinner?" Draco murmured. Harry flushed a deep pink and bit his lip harder, almost drawing blood, it seemed like, before giving a short, quick nod. Draco swirled his tongue around the head and then paused again. "Say it."

"Yes," Harry gasped out, seemingly in spite of himself, "I was."

Draco smirked up at him, "Good." He reached up and gently grasped the base of Harry's dick to hold it still before sliding it into his wet mouth as far as it would go. Harry cried out at the warm, slick suction around his cock and shuddered as Draco's tongue fluttered on the sensitive V under the head. The fingers in Draco's hair clutched and released sporadically as his tongue explored the head of Harry's cock. He ran his tongue into the slit and relished the bitter taste and tightening of Harry's fingers in his hair as Harry tried to pull his head away.

"Mal- Draco, I'm- I'm going to-" Draco held his head against the tugging and bobbed his head a little faster, keeping in time with his hand stroking the base. He impulsively ran his other hand roughly up to the middle of Harry's chest, flattening his palm and gripping at Harry's skin, surprising himself at the possessive gesture. Harry's hips thrust up once, twice more into Draco's mouth before he was exploding, arching into the hand holding him to the floor, the mouth sucking his soul from his body, crying out loudly in release. Draco watched him, enthralled, and continued sucking, pulling Harry through his orgasm, working his tongue on the underside as he felt the pulses rip through the hand length in his mouth. Harry collapsed bonelessly under him, breathing heavily, and Draco let his spent cock slip from his mouth. Draco moved to lay alongside Harry as he trembled from his release.

"Oh... my god- that was..."

"Incredibly hot," Draco finished for him. Harry gave a little breathless laugh.

"Yeah." Harry hesitantly trailed his fingers down Draco's chest, mapping his skin. He ever so slowly, shyly reached for Draco's throbbing, dripping cock and experimentally stroked.

Draco couldn't help but thrust his neglected length into Harry's palm and groan out, "More." Harry increased his grip and stroked a little faster, fascinated by the sounds escaping Draco's throat. "Harder... I'm so close..." Harry sped up his pace, reaching up and tangling his fingers into Draco's hair. Draco cried out as he pulsed hotly into Harry's hand, thrusting wildly as he rode out his orgasm and collapsed onto the towel. Harry's eyes were captured by the beautiful, erotic image of Draco's face as he climaxed. Draco grabbed Harry's head with both hands and brought their lips back together desperately in a searing kiss, both still trembling with ecstasy.

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To be continued...


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